You're a force of nature, Chevy. I imagine some History of Human Directed AI Music professor a hundred years from now, playing your songs to a large class of university students. And because of the political slant of your music you're considered by many to be the early Sartre-like purveyor of the craft, & so he's making comparisons with your lyrics, & different political philosophies & contemporary occcurences, & pointing out details, "Did you catch that, class? Can anyone tell me the signature, tying thread we just heard in that last lyric?" And so then, in the front row, a nervous looking, hot little freshman college girl with a crush on the professor raises her hand. She's dresses in a catholic girl's-style plaid skirt, w/thigh high white socks, & a bright, clean, white blouse that is perhaps a bit inappropriately opsn in front, as it's currently offering the professor a flash peak of what is obviously a red, lacey push-up style bra, & that despite the young woman's petite frame is clearly straining a bit under its slightly disproportionately large sized, full & heavy burden, especially as her excitement causes her breathing to speed up & deepen. There's really no hiding her interest, even as she hopes normal social anxiety will be the assumption of anyone paying close attention, & a rosie blush begins to warm her perfect, pale skin, helping to match it to the thick mop of silky auburn hair on her head that's currently drawn up into two sloppy buns, leaving strands to hang down & frame her heart shaped face. "Um... blue poo?" She hesitantly offers, as the professor, obviously caught up in his own passion for your music, nods her direction half disatractedly. Before disappointment at the professors apparent lack of interest can tale full hold of her, however, she suddenly jumps & squeaks a little as he unexpectedly swoops up from his seat, raising a pointesd finger triumphantly towards nothing in particular on the ceiling & exclaims, "Yes! Yes! It's brilliant, is it not class?" He then appears to calm himself again slightly with deep thought, & he finally returns his gaze to the young woman's again, directing it this time, & causing her to breathing to quicken even more than it already had with all the excitement of the last few moments, & she realizes she needs to catch herself from swooning. That would be humiliating, she knows, were she to faint or some silly thing. "The blue.. poo." The professor repeats back to her, almost too quiet for much of the class to hear, before startling the poor, half swooning girl once again by spinning on his heel suddenly & looking & pointing somewhere off into the elevated back rows of class seating, & raising his voice, "The blue poo piggies! We've heard this before! But what do you think it signifies? Anyone? Remember sue, & her lack of guilt at what many considered a perversion in her era?" Okay, okay, sorry.. I type rapidly, & I know I've gone off rails again... My bad. Carry on.
